


Mrs. Jackman

by Sadbhyl



Category: Jekyll (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a woman likes a little darkness</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mrs. Jackman

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published October 18, 2007

Claire felt the change coming before it happened.

Making love with Tom still wasn’t an everyday occurrence, cautious and uncertain when it did happen. She was just so damn grateful to have her husband back, she didn’t care.  But this was different. He seemed hungry somehow, undressing her roughly, hands grasping, teeth nipping. Claire reveled in it, scraping her nails down his back, fondling his balls hard until he forced her down onto the bed and impaled himself in her with one commanding thrust.

When the lights dimmed, she wasn’t surprised.

Electricity skittered over his skin to charge across her nerve endings, and she felt his body reshape itself along hers, inside her, leaving her breathless. She was playing with fire here, but she just clutched him closer, maintaining the pace of their coupling as the change completed.

He hesitated, as though getting his bearings. Then he relaxed, his lean body taking up their rhythm with a feline, predatory grace. His lips brushed her ear, warning her of the sharp edges behind them. “Why, hello, Mrs. Jackman.”

The heat of his breath and the low, threatening, promising pitch of his voice made her arch up against him in lust. “Oh, god.”

He slammed into her, pinning her down, making her eyes water. “Your husband know you’re cheating on him, Mrs. Jackman?”

Catching the coarse curls of his hair, she trapped him long enough to devour his mouth in hungry encouragement. The moment she felt him relax into it, she pushed off the mattress, flipping them so she sat astride his narrow hips. Breaking the kiss, she grinned down at him. “Yeah, I think he suspects something.”

With a wicked grin of his own, he ran his hands up along her exposed torso, cupping her breasts before pinching at the nipples. “I do hope he doesn’t come after me, then.”

“You’d better.” She leaned closer. “He has a nasty dark side.”

“You have no idea.” He grabbed her hips and rose to his knees, flipping her onto her back, making her squeal with an undignified yelp. Resting her ass on his thighs, he wrapped his hands around her waist to pull her against him stroke after stroke. She curled her legs around his middle and raised her arms over her head, giving herself up to his punishing seduction.

“Oh, Mrs. Jackman, you do know how to fuck.”

She dug her heels into the small of his back, her hands on the headboard giving her leverage to pound into his thrusts. “Don’t call me that.”

“No? What should I call you, then? Toots? Kitten?” Releasing his vice grip on her hips, he crawled up her body, never slowing until his mouth hovered just above her ear, his voice slipping to a dark, smoky register. “Bitch?”

She gasped, her body shuddering beneath his, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He chuckled. “You are a bad girl, Mummy.”

“If you want to be screwing your mother right now,” she panted, burying her face in his throat, “you really do have issues. I mean, come on, have you seen her?”

He laughed and screwed her harder.

It felt too good, like everything that Tom had been holding back from her for so long was now free, giving her everything she wanted. It was too easy to rationalize. It was too easy to give in and let him have his way with her.

And he knew it. “What’s the matter, Mrs. Jackman? Isn’t Daddy giving you what you need? Isn’t he scratching that itch?” He punctuated each word with a bucking thrust.

“He scratches me fine,” she insisted, writhing against him. “I just have a lot of itches. And don’t call me that.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

With a growl she rolled him again, posting hard on his rigid cock as her hands wrapped around his throat. “Say my name,” she insisted hoarsely, the orgasm creeping up on her making it difficult to think, let alone talk.

“You think you can strangle me, Mrs. Jackman?” He smirked up at her. “Seventy-eight bullets couldn’t kill me, what makes you think you could?”

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t trying to kill him, and they both knew it. She tightened her grip. “Say my name.”

He licked his lips. “No.”

Gasping in lust and fury, she throttled him in time to their fucking. “Say. My. Name.”

He closed his eyes, arching his long neck into her grip. Finally with a long, shuddering sigh, he breathed, “Claire.”

His surrender, his utter vulnerability was the last key to her release, her orgasm ripping through her like an earthquake, blinding her to everything. She was beneath him again when her senses returned, clutching him with the last of her strength, riding out his every powerful surge. A low growl started deep in his chest, growing and filling her with a dark joy until he came, roaring out his ecstasy in animal satisfaction.

They didn’t move afterwards, intimately entwined, sharing breath like new lovers. For the first time, she was close enough to make out the fine veining feeding the blackness of his eyes.

He startled her by dipping down, running the flat of his tongue from her navel to her neck, then collapsing on the bed next to her, smacking his lips. “Now that’s what I call a welcome.”

She chuckled, stretching sore, abused muscles in satisfaction. “I’m glad you liked.” Rolling on her side, she propped herself up on one elbow, tracing her fingers through the mat of dark hair covering his chest. “From now on, you want to fuck something, you come to me first.”

He licked his lips, eyeing her mouth. “Think you can keep up with me, Mrs. Jackman?”

“I told you not to call me that.” She shoved him onto his back, slinging her leg across his thighs, aware of his erection already building again.

“I’m Mrs. Hyde.”


End file.
